#woke up with a horrible headache that has not gone away with tylenol :)))))

[cascigarette]

im SICK and TIRED of being SICK and TIRED I want to feel better!!!!!! hello!!!!!!!

[lifewouldbebetteronmars]

Here’s The Story of How My Dad Accidentally Gave Me An Allergic Reaction

When I was nine years old, I was diagnosed with an allergy to Amoxicillin, which is a drug used to treat infections. You know that bubblegum medicine that pediatricians give you? Yeah, I’m allergic to that.

You may ask how I found that out, since it seems kind of specific right? Well basically, in fourth grade I got an ear infection and my doctor put me on Amoxicillin for ten days. I didn’t like the flavor of it and didn’t want to take it, but because of a previous incident, I forced myself to take it. It was horrible. But I just suffered through it. A few days before I was supposed to stop taking it, I went to a trampoline park with my sister and her friends, this will be important for later. The next morning though, I woke up and went to the bathroom. And when I had sat down and pulled down my pajama bottoms, I had hives all down my legs (and my arms too but I didn’t know it at the time), like itchy pinkish-red hives from my thighs to my ankles. So I told my mom and we went to the doctor, I got the diagnosis of a mildly delayed allergic reaction. My mom had originally thought I had gotten a rash from the trampoline park we had gone too, since they had recently had a bunch of scandals about kids getting infections from there.

It wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, since an Amoxicillin allergy can be fatal. I was lucky to have only gotten the hives. I’ve had a few close calls of almost taking it because of doctors not reading my chart and my mom forgetting to remind them, but other than that, I haven’t had to take it in almost five years. Until two weeks ago.

So my dad had recently been given Amoxicillin pills for an eye infection that he had and they were in my medicine cabinet at his house. He knows I’m allergic and everytime someone in my house has to take it, they have to keep it far away from me and anything I could touch and/or eat (since I could accidentally ingest it), everyone is usually good at keeping it away from me.

I ended up getting Covid-19 (I only just recently retested negative for it, so don’t worry) and at the time I thought it was a sinus infection, so I was taking Tylenol for it. My dad’s eye was still all swollen and he couldn’t really see that well out of it, another important fact. One night he was getting my Tylenol and his Amoxicillin, and he accidentally switched them. The pills actually look pretty similar, since they were both white and of a similar shape.

My dad had, by mistake, given me his Amoxicillin. Which I didn’t realize until later that night, when I woke up nauseous and ended up puking my guts out in the toilet. I had already had a headache but it felt as if it had gotten worse and I was feeling a bit lightheaded. I ended up having to change my pajamas because I had accidentally gotten vomit on it, which is how I noticed the hives on my arms. I told my dad immediately and we ended up going to the local emergency room. My mom works there and was really confused as to why I had been there. We ended up figuring out what had happened and I got sent home after doing an exam to make sure I was going to be okay.

So that was the really random story of how my father gave me an allergic reaction.

[jswdmb1]

Fever

Fever got me aching

Fever, why won’t you explain?

Break it down again

- The Black Keys

It started with a cough on Monday.  I just got over a bad cold about two weeks ago, so I shrugged it off as a byproduct of getting over that.  Then I went to the gym after work and fell completely flat after just a couple of laps around the indoor track.  A little unusual, but I haven’t exactly been burning it up workout-wise this winter, so I passed that off to being out-of-shape.  I woke up the next morning with a splitting headache, but went into the office anyway, because I concluded that was sinus issues and probably just a by-product of a bad night’s sleep.  There’s no way that I could be sick.   Let’s press on.

To help ease my symptoms, I went to Walgreens and got the troika of OTC medications: Tylenol, Musinex & Flonase.  Those helped me get through the day, but by the time I got home later in the evening, I knew I was in trouble.  All of the above symptoms were accompanied by chills and body aches.  Time for the thermometer, which confirmed a low-grade fever of around 100.0F.  After a night of no sleep, I did a very 21st century thing and e-visited my doctor.  I didn’t feel like going out and nobody needs my germs.  Besides, I already knew what he told me - I have a virus, probably the flu, get rest & plenty of fluids, stay out of sight for a few days, yada, yada, yada.  Despite the unexciting news (my son was certain I had coronavirus), it was good to confirm that I needed some down time to recuperate and this time I was going to take doctor’s orders seriously.

I also have the issue of my family to deal with, specifically my wife.  Over the years, I have been blamed for bringing countless flus, colds, stomach viruses, and even pink eye into the house.  I’m not really sure why, but I seem to be very susceptible to the mundane but annoying illnesses of our day.  This time, there was no way that I was going to chance things and I quarantined myself.  I decided the best place for that would be my 6th grader’s bedroom because it was probably due for a fumigation anyway.  He happily moved into the basement, my wife got away from my germs, and I got a private room to convalesce (there is a fourth person in the house, but she is a high school girl, so she is indifferent to the whole thing).  

As I write you from my solitary confinement (my only visitors are an occasional drop in from one of the dogs who sniff a bit then leave), I realize that I have probably spent too much time by myself, some of it in a fever-induced haze.  Therefore, I think it is prudent for me to give you a few thoughts I have come up with since falling ill so that the outside world doesn’t forget about me:

The concept of a fever will always intrigue me.  If you have a temperature of 98.6 you are fine, but go up a degree or two from there and you are sick?  Doesn’t make sense.  In the summer if it is 98, 99 or 100 out, can you tell the difference?  And why when I was a kid, was a fever the absolute and only factor that could keep me home from school.  I could be vomiting blood, but if it didn’t produce a fever it was off you go.

There are plenty of ways to hydrate when sick, and I have tried them all, but the best option is to take a tall glass and fill it with ice (crushed preferably if you are fancy like me and have a fridge that has that setting) and then put some good lemonade (like from Trader Joe’s) in the bottom half.  Fill the top half with real ginger soda (again from Trader Joe’s) and you are going to hydrate like a champ.  In the mornings, that EmergenC stuff mixed half with water and half with OJ is also good.

No one loves game shows more than me, and being sick is always a great time to catch up on my favorites.  These past two days, I have watched a lot of Jeopardy and concluded that it is the greatest game show of all time and Alex is the best host ever.  This updates a previous declaration I have made about Match Game and Gene Rayburn being superior, but that is not true.  As much as I love Match Game, it is really not much of a game and Gene was more of an entertainer than a true custodian of the genre.  No one surpasses the ability and wit of Alex to handle the gameplay of Jeopardy like he does.  He is a class act and I will treasure every day with him from here on out.

I have also caught a bit of news, which isn’t normally my habit, but I saw the election results in Iowa and New Hampshire and became a bit curious.  Now I realize I may not be of sound mind right now (truth be told am I ever?), but I think I am starting to feel the Bern.  And, I’m not talking about the rash these flannel sheets are giving me.  I don’t agree with everything he says, but he also is sounding more and more like the only adult in the room, which is what we need now more than ever.  I’ll let the fever go down until I fully embrace this one, but look for more from me on this soon.

For reasons that are unclear to me, I seem to crave late 80’s/early 90’s soft rock for my listening pleasure while I am sick.  You know, like Anita Baker, George Michael, Lionel Richie, and Gloria Estefan.  Stuff that usually sounds horrible to me sounds comforting in this state.  Particular songs I have enjoyed in recent hours are “She’s Like the Wind” by Patrick Swayze (from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack) and “Man in The Mirror” by Michael Jackson.  I think some Toto and Glass Tiger got in there too.  My guess is that after my fever spikes, this odd obsession will go away, but I think I will still keep Brenda Russell’s “Piano In The Dark” in my playlist.  Seriously, that is a great song and if you don’t know what I’m talking about, go listen to it now on Spotify.

I found out that I am probably more productive lying in bed than upright and out-of-the-house.  I fixed a bug in my computer that has been wonking for weeks, cleaned out my e-mail box, and worked through a couple of long-standing loose end projects that have been sitting on my virtual desk forever.  I don’t think I have ever been as well-organized as I am right now.  I am starting to think that doing this at least once a quarter will be better for me and my business whether I am sick or not.

There’s more I could share, but I gather this is already more than you probably wanted to hear.  The good news is that after 48-hours of quarantine I am starting to feel better and may be ready to emerge from my hibernation in time for the weekend. I am confident that all of the rest, fluids, and Tylenol has helped speed up my recovery.  I also believe that these past few days have been a real mental boost, which I agree seems odd, but in a world where downtime is hard to come by, I’ve decided that getting some forced on you for a couple of days isn’t the worst thing in the world.  As a matter of fact, I think it has turned into a real positive for me, which is not where I thought this was going to go when I started coughing on Monday.

It has also given me some time to catch up on things literally and figuratively, and I think I’ll come back with a fresh perspective once I am virus-free.  In the meantime, I’ll just lay here minding myself as I sip my ginger ale-lemonade concoction to the relaxing sounds of Kenny Loggins and his song from that Sly Stallone arm-wrestling movie “Meet Me Half Way”.  However, if you don’t hear from me by Sunday, please send help.  It means I’ve gone too far over the edge and started listening to the entire album of The Carpenters Greatest Hits 1969-1974.  At that point, it is no longer a game and serious intervention is needed.  I promise to be careful, but you never know.  I already can hear that chorus in my head:

“Don’t you remember you told me you love me baby…..You said you’d never leave again baby…”

Stay well everyone,

Jim

[wordsandshawn]

Crying

masterlist || coming soon//recently posted || tell me something?

Requested: Can you please do an imagine where y/n is crying bc she feels herself so bad (smth hurts or she's giving birth) and Shawn hates it cause he can't do anything about it?

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~~~

When you’re really sick, you have a tendency to cry or whimper in your sleep. You’ve been doing this for as long as you can remember. It used to freak your parents out because you’d be asleep and they couldn’t help you without waking you up, and then the same thing happened with your roommates once you started attending Uni. While it is happening, you are vaguely aware of it, but not fully because you’re actually asleep so you can’t stop it unless you wake yourself up.

“Shhhh,” You hear your boyfriends soft voice cooing in your ear as one of his arms is wrapped around your shoulder holding you securely close to his chest, while his other hand is gently pushing your hair from your tear stained cheeks and wiping the tears from your face. “Shhhh,” He tries to comfort you more as you slowly wake up and realize what is happening. “It’s okay y/n, I got you.” His voice is low and soothing. He knows you were asleep and making all these noises in your sleep, but he’s still trying to comfort you because he doesn’t know what else to do. 

Your eyes open, and it feels like your headache gets even worse if that’s even possible. You move slightly and he looks down at you to see that your eyes are open, he exhales audibly, “Oh thank God you’re awake. I don’t know how much more of that I could take” he says honestly. And you know he’s talking about the way that you were crying and whimpering in your sleep.

He leans down and kisses you lightly on the forehead. You knew before you fell asleep that you’d probably end up crying in your sleep because you felt so bad. You had asked Shawn to drive you back to your apartment so you could spend the night there and not wake him up in the middle of the night, but he insisted you stay with him at his hotel because he said he wanted to take care of you. You didn’t have the energy to fight him so you just stayed. He knew what he was getting into because he’s been with you while you were sick before and he knows you cry in your sleep. 

Closing your eyes, you turn so you can hide your face against his bare chest and his large hand comes up to gently rub your t-shirt clad back. “Can I get you anything, baby?” He questions, “Is there anything that will make you feel better?” And you can hear in his voice that he desperately needs you to feel better, maybe even more than you yourself need to feel better.

You just shake your head, knowing there probably isn’t much that can help you right now. “What time is it?” You inquire, noticing that it is still dark outside.

“It’s around four am.” He answers.

“Did you sleep at all?” You question when you realize he seems wide awake and like he’s been up for a while.

“I slept a little.”

“I woke you, didn’t I?” You state, realizing that you should have fought harder for Shawn to drive you back to your apartment. Your roommates mostly sleep through your whimpering and crying in the middle of the night because they’re pretty used to it since you get sick quite often, and they know there’s nothing they can do to help you when you get like that.

“It’s fine baby, I don’t mind. Can I do anything to make you feel better?” He asks again.

“No, my head and--” You were about to say your stomach hurt, when you realize that you’re about to be sick. You get up from the bed and rush to the bathroom despite the fact that your sudden movements make your head hurt even more.

You barely make it to your knees in front of the toilet before you empty the contents of your stomach into the bowl. You feel Shawn come up behind you. He holds back your mess of hair and you feel so terrible. You’ve been dating Shawn for two years so you’re not ashamed to have him see you like this. He’s seen you sick too many times to count, but still you feel so gross. Your head hurts, your stomach still hurts, the smell of your own puke is making you feel even more sick, and to top it all off, you feel like you have absolutely no energy at all to even move from your spot on the floor.

Shawn stands from his spot behind you and grabs a washcloth from the shelf under the sink.Running it under the water, he comes back to where you’re still seated on the floor of the hotel bathroom. He kneels beside you and gently wipes your face, which helps you feel a tiny bit better. You don’t mean to, but you’re just exhausted, feeling terrible, and you can’t help yourself or stop yourself. You just start crying. He doesn’t notice at first, because he had turned away from you to grab your toothbrush from the counter. He’s putting toothpaste on it when he hears you sniffle. Immediately, he puts your toothbrush down and turns his attention back to you. “Baby, don’t cry. It’s okay.” He tells you. You just sniffle in response. He seems momentarily at a loss for what to do next, but he sits down on the floor next to you. Carefully, he gathers your now shaking and sobbing frame into his arms. “Hun, it’s okay. Can you tell me what hurts?” He questions.

“My h-head hurts, and I-I d-d-don’t want to be s-sick any-anymore.” You manage to choke out resting your head against Shawn. His hand automatically comes up and lightly rests on your head.

“I know, y/n, I know,” He tells you softly. You don’t mean to act like a baby, but you’ve already spent four days feeling absolutely horrible, and it doesn’t seem to be letting up at all. At this point you’re just so completely over being sick. You’re also a bit resentful because Shawn has been in town for the last two days and you’ve been too sick to actually do anything with him except lie in bed.

You had gone to the doctor on the second day, and he didn’t give you anything. He just said it was a virus and you’d have to let it run its course. He recommended taking tylenol when necessary, but he did not prescribe you any medication.

“Maybe we should go to urgent care.” Shawn suggests after a few more minutes of holding you in his arms.

You just shake your head slightly, and push yourself even closer to Shawn’s chest if that’s even possible. “I just want to sleep.” You mumble, sniffling. Too tired to even cry any longer.

“I hate this, I hate this so much.” He mumbles softly, more to himself than anything else, but you gather the strength to push yourself from him.

“I’m sorry,” You say, trying to get out of his lap.

“No!” He says a bit too loudly, but he catches himself and speaks softer, “No, I didn’t mean that. I just hate when you’re sick and I can’t do anything about it.” He clarifies, and you collapse against him again, completely out of energy.

He stands and helps you up, you brush your teeth and then follow him back into the bedroom. It is close to five in the morning, and Shawn still has to work today. Once you’re both back in bed, he’s holding you close to his chest and running his hand up and down your arm in an attempt to bring you comfort, and because he knows you like when he does that. 

After about ten minutes of this, you finally say, “Shawn, just go to sleep.” Because you know he’s fighting to stay awake but he’s tired and he hasn’t slept much at all tonight. You’re tired too, but you decide you’ll try your best to stay awake for his sake because you don’t want to fall asleep and accidentally wake him with your crying again. You’ve already cried enough and kept him awake more than enough.

“Not until you do, darling,” He says into your ear.